14 Summer, 514
The coming of dawn through the hostel window was met by the weak flickering of flame from a single candle. The pool collected in the candlestick's pan indicated it'd been burning for some time and that the pycon beside it had been up just as long. He let the flame linger as the light of the day slowly filled the room, unblinking eyes taking yet another stock of the pieces in the tiny chest with its array of screws, small pulleys, bits of string and other odd bits.
It was only when the last of the darkness was chased away did Heilyn raise up on his hindquarters and snuff out the flame with one paw. The weak heat of the flame did little but irritate him before it vanished. He followed the last wisps of smoke upwards as it drifted across the room to the window and then out into the city. Then he settled his sights just below the window where a length of silk hung off the edge.
With a few hops he held the silk rope in his paws, feeling the evenly spaced knots run between the tips before grasping it firmly and starting the ascent. If anyone was around to see it'd look alternately like he was balled up to jump in mid-air or a bit like a stretched rabbit hung up by some hunter as Heilyn made his way to the table edge. As funny as it looked there was some reason to it, as each limb wrapped around the knot and temporarily fused together to make a tight hold it gave a sturdy place to push or pull from.
The last bit still could use some work though as paws sought a hold in the wood to pull the rest of himself up in a completely ungraceful manner. Picking the rope from between his toes he followed it up to where the end lay. The usual anchoring grapnel had been replaced; instead a small pulley with a crank on one side had been firmly wedged in a gap in the table's planks. He gave the winch a few shoves to try and dislodge it. Satisfied it'd require a lever to properly remove, he took the crank up in one paw and removed the halting pin.
It reeled in swiftly, the silken rope curling about the pulley in a way reminiscent of the spool it had once been. Soon the line picked up slack and the first hints of resistance began. Each rotation of the crank became a small effort as something dangled at the rope's end. Heilyn braced himself against the pulley's frame with one paw on each upstroke, the strain as each knot pulled over the table's edge on the taut line making his head bob up an down with the downstroke release of the temporary tension till the next knot. He grumbled at the lack of foresight of putting a second pulley somewhere above but it hadn't seemed necessary before.
Then the melted wax of a candle appeared. A few turns later and Heilyn could see the start of the candlestick. A few more past that and he fumbled the halting pin back into place to secure the crank, lest it begin spinning freely out of control and the work be for nothing. He bent over the edge of the table and grabbed the candlestick by the finger loop, hoisting it over the edge while carefully keeping the pan free from being caught. While undoing the knot on the loop a toe pressed lightly into the pan of wax to find it still pleasantly warm. With the candlestick free he drew his small knife to begin prying the wax out of the pan before it hardened completely. The simple work and sensation of wax peeling away from metal was oddly soothing and his mind began to drift back to the morning's problem.
The previous day had made the point that a strong gust of wind might in itself be a danger greater than he'd previously given any mind. For use in such conditions, or at least around the Aperture he'd need some sort of way to keep the line taut to prevent being flung around like a leaf.
The solution itself seemed easy enough for most cases, somewhere along the end but not quite the bottom he'd tie a weight that'd act like a mid-air anchor of sorts. However a few obvious problems still were present in that it would have to be fixed for each different distance for it to be in roughly the right spot to be effective, a sufficiently strong gust could still send it swinging, and most importantly that carrying around a heavy weight all day was an unattractive prospect.
So he'd been sent back to the drawing board. Whatever it was it'd have to be easy enough to set up going up or downwards in a climb and preferably with minimal additional weight added. The working trance was broken when something inside him began to make pointed arguments for breakfast. He looked at his work and found the candlestick clean of the melted wax stuck fast to metal. For now Heilyn just piled the bits in the pan, ready to be tossed out when he next left the room.
He passed by the winch once more, pulling the pin out against to unwind the rope till the first loop and knot presented itself. With a few tugs it was undone and ready to be returned to the grapnel which lay nearby. He threaded the tip through the thin hole of the grappling hook, pulling it through a length. He tied a knot and felt a nagging thought just out of reach. He waited a few moments to see if he could catch it but was rudely interrupted by another pang from within. With a sigh he knotted the line again to see if the thought would return but it had fled.
At the edge he secured the hook and began his way down to the floor again. The problem had a solution, he was sure, and it could be figured out over breakfast.
The coming of dawn through the hostel window was met by the weak flickering of flame from a single candle. The pool collected in the candlestick's pan indicated it'd been burning for some time and that the pycon beside it had been up just as long. He let the flame linger as the light of the day slowly filled the room, unblinking eyes taking yet another stock of the pieces in the tiny chest with its array of screws, small pulleys, bits of string and other odd bits.
It was only when the last of the darkness was chased away did Heilyn raise up on his hindquarters and snuff out the flame with one paw. The weak heat of the flame did little but irritate him before it vanished. He followed the last wisps of smoke upwards as it drifted across the room to the window and then out into the city. Then he settled his sights just below the window where a length of silk hung off the edge.
With a few hops he held the silk rope in his paws, feeling the evenly spaced knots run between the tips before grasping it firmly and starting the ascent. If anyone was around to see it'd look alternately like he was balled up to jump in mid-air or a bit like a stretched rabbit hung up by some hunter as Heilyn made his way to the table edge. As funny as it looked there was some reason to it, as each limb wrapped around the knot and temporarily fused together to make a tight hold it gave a sturdy place to push or pull from.
The last bit still could use some work though as paws sought a hold in the wood to pull the rest of himself up in a completely ungraceful manner. Picking the rope from between his toes he followed it up to where the end lay. The usual anchoring grapnel had been replaced; instead a small pulley with a crank on one side had been firmly wedged in a gap in the table's planks. He gave the winch a few shoves to try and dislodge it. Satisfied it'd require a lever to properly remove, he took the crank up in one paw and removed the halting pin.
It reeled in swiftly, the silken rope curling about the pulley in a way reminiscent of the spool it had once been. Soon the line picked up slack and the first hints of resistance began. Each rotation of the crank became a small effort as something dangled at the rope's end. Heilyn braced himself against the pulley's frame with one paw on each upstroke, the strain as each knot pulled over the table's edge on the taut line making his head bob up an down with the downstroke release of the temporary tension till the next knot. He grumbled at the lack of foresight of putting a second pulley somewhere above but it hadn't seemed necessary before.
Then the melted wax of a candle appeared. A few turns later and Heilyn could see the start of the candlestick. A few more past that and he fumbled the halting pin back into place to secure the crank, lest it begin spinning freely out of control and the work be for nothing. He bent over the edge of the table and grabbed the candlestick by the finger loop, hoisting it over the edge while carefully keeping the pan free from being caught. While undoing the knot on the loop a toe pressed lightly into the pan of wax to find it still pleasantly warm. With the candlestick free he drew his small knife to begin prying the wax out of the pan before it hardened completely. The simple work and sensation of wax peeling away from metal was oddly soothing and his mind began to drift back to the morning's problem.
The previous day had made the point that a strong gust of wind might in itself be a danger greater than he'd previously given any mind. For use in such conditions, or at least around the Aperture he'd need some sort of way to keep the line taut to prevent being flung around like a leaf.
The solution itself seemed easy enough for most cases, somewhere along the end but not quite the bottom he'd tie a weight that'd act like a mid-air anchor of sorts. However a few obvious problems still were present in that it would have to be fixed for each different distance for it to be in roughly the right spot to be effective, a sufficiently strong gust could still send it swinging, and most importantly that carrying around a heavy weight all day was an unattractive prospect.
So he'd been sent back to the drawing board. Whatever it was it'd have to be easy enough to set up going up or downwards in a climb and preferably with minimal additional weight added. The working trance was broken when something inside him began to make pointed arguments for breakfast. He looked at his work and found the candlestick clean of the melted wax stuck fast to metal. For now Heilyn just piled the bits in the pan, ready to be tossed out when he next left the room.
He passed by the winch once more, pulling the pin out against to unwind the rope till the first loop and knot presented itself. With a few tugs it was undone and ready to be returned to the grapnel which lay nearby. He threaded the tip through the thin hole of the grappling hook, pulling it through a length. He tied a knot and felt a nagging thought just out of reach. He waited a few moments to see if he could catch it but was rudely interrupted by another pang from within. With a sigh he knotted the line again to see if the thought would return but it had fled.
At the edge he secured the hook and began his way down to the floor again. The problem had a solution, he was sure, and it could be figured out over breakfast.
